


Like the rain in June

by hydrofloride



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrofloride/pseuds/hydrofloride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho wakes to the knowledge that they're fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like the rain in June

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Abi for looking over this for me ♥

Yunho wakes to the knowledge that they’re fighting.

He groans as he struggles to get up from the couch - did he sleep there? - and wishes he could go back to sleep.

He stares into nothing for a while, debating if he has time to lie down for a couple more minutes when the doorbell rings. Yunho lets his manager in, who scans the place quickly, frowning at the mess and Yunho’s disheveled state.

"Changmin is waiting in the car,” he says, tone accusing. Their fights over the years often cause trouble like that; changes at the last minute – in the sleeping arrangements or the different routes their driver has to take, but both of them are always too proud to compromise.

Yunho doesn’t want to see Changmin. He rubs his face tiredly. “I’ll be ready in few.”

Tuning out a number of complaints and a few hurry ups, he pulls on the first thing he finds lying around – probably Changmin’s – and is out the door in minutes.

In the van he sits as far from Changmin as possible and rests his head on the window. The vibrations from the car make his forehead bump continuously on the glass but Yunho settles against it anyway.

His mind drifts to their fight last night, dread pulling at his gut. It’s not rare for Changmin to show up late at night at his doorstep after a night out with Kyuline, giggly and blurry-eyed and showing affection, and Yunho doesn’t mind. Of course he doesn’t, it’s none of his business – who Changmin is out with, where he goes, whom he kisses – none of those should matter. Sometimes Yunho lets Changmin sleep in his bed with him, the smell of alcohol in his breath and his hair tickling him in the face keeping Yunho up.

Changmin had walked into his apartment a little tipsy, and it was normal. Yunho saw the flush on his cheeks, the stubble re-growing around his mouth: he looked painfully not his. Before he knew it he was yelling, that the other man should stop being so irresponsible when they have a flight tomorrow, that he should be more professional– afraid all the while that Changmin might see through his jealous heart. It was ugly, as Changmin started yelling back, voice no longer slurred, and Yunho hated it, hated the way Changmin laughed, angry and incredulous, he wanted–

There was a beat, and nobody was speaking, and Yunho almost dared himself.

He shoved Changmin, hard, then he was kissing him.

He pulled back as suddenly as he had lunged forward, wondering if he had lost his mind and saw Changmin looking at him with wide eyes.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, or minutes, then Changmin was putting on his shoes and leaving.

 

He wakes up on Changmin’s chest and realizes, mortified, that he has drooled on his shirt. He can feel the other man’s heartbeat beneath the soft cotton. It’s warm and comfortable and Yunho wants to stay there but he forces himself to pull away, wiping his mouth. He tries a weak “I’m sorry” but Changmin shows no signs that he’s heard him, glasses perched on his nose, looking out the window.

 

Changmin walks ahead of him at the airport, holding onto the shoulder straps of his backpack, hair a tangled mess above his nape. His manager ruffles it as he catches up with him and Changmin shakes his head, laughing. For one terrible moment, Yunho thinks they'll never talk again. He tries to swallow down the panic – it's ridiculous of course, he knows. He stares into the younger man’s back, then absently checks his phone.

 

It's hot in Japan. Yunho stumbles into their apartment, Changmin silent behind him. Sort of passive-aggressive, Yunho thinks and it makes him a bit angry, and miserable. He considers ignoring the other man's irritated growl when he walks to his bedroom with his shoes still on but in the end he turns around and arranges them neatly next to Changmin's. He just wants to sleep.

The air is thick and humid. His throat already feels scratchy so he leaves the air-con off and opens the window instead. He falls on the bed. His T-shirt is sticking to his back, sweat trickles down between sore muscles, and Yunho turns a little until he’s on his front. There’s the distant rumble of a thunder, rain following soon after. A breeze tickles the back of his thighs. Head heavy with thoughts of Changmin, Yunho falls asleep like this, the rain muted on the leaves of the trees outside.

 

The younger man is making dinner when Yunho gets up. Yunho hovers around the kitchen door; he thinks about going out to eat at the ramen shop around the corner but decides against it and sits at the table. He rehearses what he wants to say in his head, lets the words roll around his mouth. Changmin turns around and as soon as his gaze meets Yunho’s, he looks away.

After pottering around, he puts a bowl of gyudon in front of Yunho.

“Thanks,” Yunho says, to which Changmin nods a few times characteristically, looking down at his food as he settles at the table.

They eat in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry.” Yunho blurts. When Changmin makes no move to acknowledge him, he gets impatient. “Look, Changmin-ah, I shouldn’t–“

“Hyung. I’m not mad.” Changmin is now looking at him, fringe falling into his eyes, mouth set in a line. He looks sheepish.

Yunho blinks at him in confusion and is about to repeat his apology but Changmin cuts him off again. “I’m really not mad,” he says and quickly looks away.

He stares at Changmin, who seems now completely preoccupied with the raw egg he always saves for last. They proud themselves in knowing each other better than their own families, but Yunho thinks he doesn’t, not when Changmin is like this. When he carefully guards himself and Yunho can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Okay.” He doesn’t have anything else to offer and resumes eating.

 

They keep to themselves the following week. Yunho spends most of his time with the dancers and Changmin is out with people Yunho doesn’t know, and when he’s home he’s locked up in his room. They’re friendly and polite with each other at practice, and Yunho starts missing him.

 

During rehearsal, Yunho is talking to Sam, eyes darting to Changmin every few seconds. When he’s absorbed in a conversation with the dancers, Yunho can look all he wants. His natural curls fall into his eyes and he keeps pushing them behind his ears. He laughs as he adjusts the surgical mask on his face – Yunho knows because his eyes crinkle and his shoulders are shaking, making Changmin sway back and forth. He looks adorable, and Yunho wants to be close to him.

Changmin is having trouble with some part of the choreography so Yunho is holding him by the hips and guides his movements. He keeps trying and failing until he stops and huffs, annoyed. Yunho can smell his sweat and body wash on him, and is suddenly overcome by fondness. His hands clench around the younger man’s hipbones and pull him against his body, and before Yunho has time to process what he’s done and start panicking, Changmin leans back. Hope bubbling in his throat, unsure and dangerous, Yunho holds him closer.

 

Despite their moment at practice, things don’t change much between them. There’s a sort of tangible irritation between them; somehow everything Yunho does serves to annoy Changmin – more so than before – and Yunho refuses to confront him. He becomes stubborn instead, and worries and thinks too much because Yunho is always thinking too much.

 

He’s smoking in the living room, leaning on the wall in front of the open balcony door. It’s raining, and Yunho can occasionally feel the droplets on his face.

Changmin has retreated to his room, of course, after hours of housework and a late lunch. It really isn’t much different from how it usually is, Yunho thinks and allows himself a smile. We’re back to normal, we’re almost there.

He hears Changmin’s door opening and shutting, and the soft sound of his footsteps; Changmin always wears socks – even when it’s summer, even when he’s inside the house. The younger man appears in front of him, lips already set in a disapproving line at the sight of the cigarette. Yunho expects him to complain and he’s about to defend himself then instantly becomes stubborn – so what, I’m having a smoke in my living room, he wants to say – and turns his head the other way to blow the smoke out. But Changmin comes to stand next to him, arms behind his back, and says nothing. They stay like this for a while, watching the rain. Then Changmin kisses him.

He turns to Yunho like it’s normal, like they do it every day and kisses him. It’s chaste and clumsy at first, eyelashes fluttering close, brushing against Yunho’s face until Changmin becomes braver and presses into him. Yunho makes a muffled noise before grabbing onto the front of Changmin’s shirt with one hand and kissing back, like it’s his first and last chance – because it probably is. Their lips move hungrily against each other, searching, burning. After a while Yunho pulls back a little and opens his eyes while Changmin keeps his firmly downcast, persistently nipping at the older man’s lower lip. They foreheads touch, naturally, because it is something they’ve always done, and they slow down into more desperate, open-mouthed kisses. They breathe each other, and Yunho tastes him with all the quiet desperation building up in him for so long. For so long, he had wanted him. Changmin’s fingers slide down Yunho’s other arm and close around his wrist, splayed just above his pulse point. They kiss like that, secret and hushed, between a low ceiling and summer rain, cigarette burning in Yunho’s hand.

 

Yunho is in the middle of texting while trying to put on his shoes when he hears Changmin huff behind him.

“What are you doing, we-”

“You’re sick,” Yunho says, without looking up from his phone.

“What-”

“I just texted Sam, you’re sick and can’t make it to practice today,” he continues, slipping the phone in his pocket. He turns to Changmin and grins.

The younger man’s eyes widen characteristically before he throws Yunho a scandalized look. “Hyung… are you- are you skipping practice?”

“We both are.” Yunho beams. “We’re eating out.”

“But-”

Yunho brings a finger to Changmin’s lips, which Changmin follows with his eyes and frowns at.

“Shhh, let hyung treat you,” and with that, Yunho slings an arm around Changmin, who has no time to protest and they are both out the door.

 

He takes Changmin to the little ramen shop around the neighborhood. He sees Changmin raise an eyebrow as if to say _this is what we’re skipping practice for?_ but it feels more like an _this is where you’re taking me on a date?_ and he feels a little flushed and a little happy, so he smiles at him conspiratorially. “The food is delicious.”

They sit in the back, across each other, steaming bowls of noodles in front of them. Changmin clears his throat and looks at him, then quickly looks away and down at his food. He clasps and unclasps his hands, and finally gives Yunho a sheepish grin, as if they’re sharing a secret. He’s so sweet in his blue shirt. He’s so sweet, and Yunho wants him. He wants to reach out and take his hands in his, hold them until Changmin gets annoyed. He smiles at the thought and takes a breath. Eating ramen with Changmin shouldn’t make him so nervous, or happy but it does, and it’s kind of wonderful. He starts singing ‘Heart, Mind and Soul’, quietly at first, then loud enough for the whole almost-empty shop to hear until Changmin puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, muttering, “Hyung.” Yunho scrunches up his nose and closes his eyes but stops, smiling as he turns his head to look out the window.

On the way back their steps tangle and they kind of fall into each other, and Changmin presses him against a lamp post. It’s raining now, dotting Changmin's shirt as he kisses Yunho timidly, with his mouth closed. Yunho can taste it. He wonders if Changmin always tasted like rain or if rain will always taste of him.

 

He walks around Inokashira Park, hands in his pockets, making patterns with his shoes on the still wet ground. They don’t talk about it, their new… aspect of their relationship. Amidst their schedule becoming hectic Changmin keeps his distance and Yunho keeps what he wants to say inside, afraid like a beginner. He wants to hold Changmin close until everything is too tight, he wants to say everything he’s been so afraid to. He wants to know everything about Changmin; every inch of the hard muscles under his clothes, and the delicate core of him. “My Changmin,” Yunho would sometimes call him and ruffle his hair, and Changmin would let him like he’s really Yunho’s, smiling at him backstage when he forgot about the people around them. Yunho wants to, desperately he wants to call him his.

He lets his gaze wander. He recognizes a fan from afar and waves to her, and after a few minutes a small crowd starts to form and follows at a distance. Yunho decides to walk with them for a while. One of them shoves a brochure about live outdoor events in the area to his hands. Another one is Korean, and before Yunho has the chance to speak to her, she clasps her hands together dramatically and wails “Oppa! Leave Changmin and be with me!” Yunho shakes his head, almost unconsciously. “I can’t do that,” he says, smiling.

 

Kichijouji changes and transforms at night, comes alive. Rain was pouring down moments ago, now it’s reduced to a slow drizzle, the last of June. The indie guitarist on stage scratches more than he plays but Yunho supposes that’s the charm of it. They’re standing next to each other, stage lights grazing their tall figures. Yunho can feel the thrum of the bass under his feet. They’re wearing matching raincoats. A beat, an interval between songs, and Yunho reaches for Changmin’s hand and intertwines his fingers with his. Changmin leans in and whispers something, and it’s lost under the sound of the fireworks crackling above them.


End file.
